


I Guess I Can Leave Tomorrow

by ryuusei



Category: Riverdale - Fandom
Genre: Angst, FP & Jughead, Incest, M/M, One Shot, Realization
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-29
Updated: 2018-08-29
Packaged: 2019-07-02 08:15:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,092
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15792609
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ryuusei/pseuds/ryuusei
Summary: “I guess I can leave tomorrow,” he breathed.Jughead nodded dizzily, once more smashing his mouth to FP’s.





	I Guess I Can Leave Tomorrow

FP stared into Jughead’s eyes, his eyes darting back and forth as if he were trying to read him. His big calloused hands cupped his son’s cheeks, his rough thumbs moving over the boy’s soft skin, a stark contrast to the steely glare he laid upon his father.

 

“They need me, Jug,” his father spoke in a low, gravelly tone. His breath was hot and smelled faintly of liquor, the kind which Jughead couldn’t place. “I’m doing this for the good of the Serpents.”

 

His son cast his gaze aside, attempting to turn his head when FP tightened his grip on his cheeks.

 

“Look at me, son. I’m not doing this to hurt you, God knows I do that enough every day. I’m trying to create something better for us, for you.”

 

“Spare me the false sincerity, dad. I don’t care what you do anymore. I won’t bother you, and you don’t have to worry about me.” Jughead’s tone wavered, his voice betraying his anger. It wasn’t anger, though — it was hurt. Although he was used to being left behind with a broken family and a dodgy father in sketchy situations ducking in and out of his life without explanation, this was different. After he was released from prison, the boy had his heart set on a new start and FP made it easy for him to fall further into the trap with his ‘new outlook’. The sense of hope built up at the thought of a relationship with his dad, who he envisioned having a stationary place in his life, was now replaced by FP’s empty promises.

 

“Jug, don’t say that. I always worry about you; whether or not you’re eating, if you’re safe, where you’re spending your time and who with—“

 

“You lost your right to worry about me when you decided to take this job,” his son spat. The thought of his father taking jobs from drug dealers had his blood boiling and caused a new intensity of fear to creep into his chest. _“It’s a dangerous gig, Jug,”_ he heard his father’s voice repeat in his mind. _“Being a Serpent.”_

 

“You can’t take away my right to worry about my son.”

 

“You can’t take away my right to have my father!” Jughead shouted, pulling away from the still-tight grip FP had on him, turning his back to the man. Now he was angry. His shoulders rose and fell with a shudder as he fought tears that were daring to spill from his eyes. “You just got here... please don’t leave. You owe me this much. You owe me.” The boy’s voice was hushed, barely above a whisper as he spoke.

FP drew in a deep breath, letting out a rushed sigh as he ran his fingers through his hair, his jaw tightened in frustration.

 

“Jughead,” he started calmly, “I don’t like this, you know. I’m not leaving you to hurt you, to take your father away,” he continued, stepping closer to his son, placing his hand on his shoulder, slowly pulling him to be face to face. “I do owe you, more than I could ever give. Don’t think I don’t wish with all my heart that I could give you everything you’d ever want or need. I know you’re a bright boy, and resilient as hell. You’ve proved that your whole life, even when you shouldn’t have had to. I know you’ll be fine without me, and when I’m done with this job I promise you that things’ll be better.”

 

“You ‘ _promise_ ’?” Jughead growled, his fingers marking the word promise with air quotes. “I’m sick and tired of that word and even more sick and tired of hearing it from your mouth.”

 

FP watched his son with his mouth agape, not knowing what to say. He felt a familiar pang of guilt stab at his chest, momentarily taking his breath away. He was a horrible father, he knew that much, but this was different. Somehow. He couldn’t put his finger on it. Instead, his gaze fixed on his son’s mouth, the boy’s lower lip quivering as he bit at it, reddening the delicate flesh.

 

“Don’t do that, Jug,” he softly said, sweeping a rough thumb over his lip as gently as he could. He stared at him briefly before he leaned forward, his lips pressing against his boy’s lips. _Stop, stop, stop. Don’t do this, don’t prove yourself to be worse than a horrible father, to be a predator._ To his surprise, his son didn’t move. He didn’t jerk away, he didn’t shove him, he didn’t scream or yell. He didn’t do anything, in fact. Just stood there, letting his father’s lips touch his own.

 

Jughead froze when FP suddenly closed the gap between them with the press of his lips. He felt some sort of feeling build up, starting from his stomach and filling quickly to his throat. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant, but the sensation was startling just enough to freeze him in place. It hit him suddenly, the invasive thought: _I want to kiss my dad._

As quickly as their lips touched they separated, the millisecond of their contact seeming like forever in both of their minds.

 

“Looks painful,” his father said before clearing his throat. “Don’t do that.”

 

Jughead fixed his eyes to the floor, his cheeks flushing with realizations followed by feigned shame.

FP started quickly stuffing things into a dirty canvas bag, not able to do it fast enough. The guilt of his feelings, the racing of his heart, the ghost sensation of his lips against Jughead’s all causing some sort of panic inside him.

 

“Dad,” the boy started, stepping forward with outstretched hands to slow his father’s frenzy. “Stop.”

 

Their eyes locked; a set of intense dark orbs and set of crystal blue pools. It was almost as if there was a silent understanding between the two of them, albeit a hesitant one. They both knew it was wrong, and at the risk of being a cliche, if it was so wrong, why did it feel so right? This time it was Jughead who closed the space between them, capturing FP’s lips with his own. The two kissed heatedly, passionately, with FP’s fingers tangled in his son’s dark hair and Jughead’s fingers grasping anxiously at his father’s Serpent jacket. As they broke the contact and gasped for air, FP stared hard into his son’s eyes, his hands settling heavily at the boy’s waist.

 

“I guess I can leave tomorrow,” he breathed.

 

Jughead nodded dizzily, once more smashing his mouth to FP’s.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting here, please be gentle. ♥️


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